


Black Eyes Blue

by LimeyJellyBean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:15:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25766569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LimeyJellyBean/pseuds/LimeyJellyBean
Summary: "What's the matter, Dean? Am I not better this way?" Black gave way to blue, and Dean nearly passed out where he stood."... Cas…?"
Kudos: 15





	Black Eyes Blue

Dean gulped, the hand squeezing his throat making the action more difficult than it should have been. Black eyes bore in to green, unblinking, showing no hint of emotion in the slightest, no hint there of the person it used to be. They smiled, the toothy grin looking more sinister than it usually was, unnerving Dean in ways he hadn't felt for a long time. He squirmed in the grip, trying to look anywhere but at the person in front of him, failing as the hand moved from throat to jaw, forcing him to look.

"What's the matter, Dean? Am I not better this way?" Black gave way to blue, and Dean nearly passed out where he stood.

"... Cas…?" He gasped in mock horror, a small laugh working it's way from the ex-angel.

"He remembers! Aww, isn't that sweet?" The grip around Dean's jaw tightened, bordering now on painful. "You didn't answer my question though, Dean, and I think that's very rude of you." Castiel tilted his head to the side, a glimmer of the person he used to be peeking through before disappearing again under black. He frowned as Dean remained silent, moving his hand back to his throat.

"I asked you a question. Am I not better this way, Dean?" He swallowed, trying his hardest not to look Castiel in the eye again.

"I… What happened to you, Cas?" He shrugged nonchalantly, adjusting his grip on Dean's throat.

"The usual, you know? The very _essence_ of you taken out, twisted, made into something else and popped back in - all textbook stuff." The toothy grin didn't leave Castiel's face, and Dean squirmed under his grip. "It wasn't all that unpleasant really." He shrugged, dropping Dean to the floor, standing back to stare at the hunter with intrigue. Dean coughed, taking in large gulps of air between as he got his lungs used to taking in normal amounts of oxygen again.

“And you just let it happen? You’re better than that.” Castiel shrugged again, stepping further away as Dean wobbled to his feet. “We can fi-” Black clouded over blue again as Castiel surged forward, pinning Dean back to the wall. The grin was gone, replaced with anger that didn’t look right on his face, features distorted into a snarl.

“ _We can fix it, Cas. Doesn’t have to be this way, Cas. Better than that, Cas._ ” His tone was mocking, but there was no mistaking the anger that was barely being contained. “Did it ever occur to you that I tried at first? There’s no turning back from this Dean, nothing you can do. **_Nothing_**. And I don’t want you to. Do you understand that?” Dean stared, trying to hide his fear with bravado, trying to keep himself from crumbling under Castiel’s gaze. He blinked, unanswering, which only served to piss Castiel off further. He growled, dropping Dean again before turning away from the hunter. The hesitation was enough for Dean to collect himself, gripping Castiel’s wrist before he had any chance to go anywhere else.

“I don’t care. You’re not staying like this, it’s not _you_.” He shook the hunter’s hand away before turning back, the snarl still firmly in place.

“ ** _Watch me._** ” Dean didn’t have time to blink before he’d disappeared, left standing alone in the hallway of the bunker. The wall in front of him took the full brunt of his frustration as his fist cracked one tile, and then another - Dean didn’t care. He didn’t know how long he stood there, collapsing to the floor when punching the wall no longer helped with the frustration, running his hands through his hair. It was where Sam found him, head in hands, staring at the floor. He wordlessly helped his brother up, brow briefly furrowing in confusion at the state of the wall before he saw Dean’s hand, leading him to the infirmary rather than the library like he had originally planned. Sam’s concern only grew as Dean remained silent, refusing a drink before he got to work cleaning up his knuckles, staring blankly in to space.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sam gave his best puppy dog eyes, but Dean just continued to stare in to the distance. He clicked to get his brother’s attention, slowly turning to where the noise had come from.

“... Cas.” Sam was sure he’d never heard Dean’s voice so quiet, so small before, concern spiking again.

“Cas?”

“He’s… He’s…” He looked at his hands, at the bandage now wrapped around the knuckles, staring at the staining that had started. “He’s a demon, Sam.”

“ _What?_ ”

“He’s a damn demon.” Sam sat in stunned silence, mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of something, anything, to say. 

“... How is that even possible?” Dean shrugged, picking at a loose thread on the bandage. Sam slapped his good hand away, trying to get him to focus.

“I… He said something about his essence being taken out and twisted… Maybe he was talking about his grace or something? He wasn’t exactly forthcoming with the details, and I couldn’t exactly ask him with his hand around my throat.” He winced, unconsciously rubbing his throat where Castiel had held it. “He was adamant that he didn’t want us to do anything about it though.” Sam scoffed, earning a puzzled look from Dean.

“When have we ever listened to people saying that?”

“Let’s see… There was that - never.”

“Exactly. So we’re gonna get him fixed.” Dean hesitated.

“... How?”

\------------------------------------

“Okay, so you’re sure this is gonna work?” Sam threw the most appropriate bitch face towards Dean, who held his hands up in defence. “Jesus, touchy much?”

“Considering we’ve never had to summon a demon who used to be an angel before, I don’t know Dean. It’s all new territory.” He glanced down at the ingredients in the bowl, sending a silent prayer that it would actually work. “It should in theory though.”

“You got the devil’s trap handcuffs?”

“Yes.”

“Holy water?”

“... Yes.”

“Angel blade?”

“Dude.”

“What? Just making sure.” He folded his arms across his chest, stepping away from the table and leaning against the wall as Sam poured the final ingredient in to the summoning bowl. He glanced over to Dean who nodded, striking a match and throwing it in, black flames rising as the ingredients burned. They coughed as the flames subsided, waving away smoke that clung to the edges of the bowl. Castiel sat in the chair in the middle of the devil’s trap, legs slung over one of the arms, looking bored at being summoned.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Dean pushed himself off the wall, determination set in his jaw as he picked the holy water up off the table. He threw it over the ex-angel, Castiel hissing as it hit his skin, sitting up straighter in the chair.

“Now… What was that for?” Words were hissed out through gritted teeth, feet planted firmly on the floor now. “I’m waiting.” Sam stood in front of Dean, gently pushing him towards the back of the dungeon.

“We’re going to fix you. Whether you like it or not.” Castiel laughed, a mock look of surprise on his face. Sam was taken aback, not used to the sound coming from him.

“ _Fix me?_ Sam, Sam, Sam… Did Dean not tell you that I don’t _need_ to be _fixed?_ ” He laughed again, all but jumping out the chair, getting as close to the edge of the devil’s trap as he could. Dean held the holy water out ready, Castiel just rolling his eyes at the movement.

“Really?” Dean shrugged, keeping his arm ready.

“Behave and I won’t need to use it.” It was Castiel’s turn to shrug, turning back towards the chair. He threw himself on to it, legs hanging lazily over the arm again, feigning interest in dirt under one of his fingernails.

“Okay… Good. Now - you told Dean that you had your essence taken out… Did you mean your grace?” Castiel rolled his eyes.

“What else would I mean? Is there anything else that makes an angel an angel, other than the stick up their asses?” He closed his eyes, still swinging his legs. “You really aren’t the brightest bulbs in the box sometimes, are you?” Sam huffed, turning to Dean, who turned to Castiel.

“So you had your grace messed with. That’s helpful. We need to mess with it to get you back to being you.” The toothy grin worked its way back on to his face, and Dean shuddered. He leant closer, his voice barely above a whisper.

 _“Then come and get it.”_ Dean looked back to Sam, squaring his shoulders as Sam realised what he was about to do.

“Dean, _wai-_ ” Words fell on deaf ears as he rushed the ex-angel, the grin getting larger on his face. He was lucky the chair was bolted to the floor, the force he knocked in to Castiel nearly tipping it.

“SAM! HANDCUFFS!” Castiel laughed as Sam cuffed him to the chair, both Winchesters stepping back as the sinister grin settled back on his face.

“That tickled. Can we do it again?” Dean splashed holy water in his face, turning away as it slowly evaporated off his skin. He growled at the sensation, grin turning in to a snarl as Dean lifted the angel blade off the table. He looked back at Sam, stood ready with John’s journal, solemnly nodding. He took a deep breath before pressing the tip of the blade to Castiel’s throat, his eyes flashing black as warning.

“Go on… Dare you.”

“It’s for your own good, Cas.”

 _“Of course it is.”_ His voice dripped with sarcasm, laughing again before Dean drew the blade across his skin, letting his grace free. The normally bright blue was tinged black, giving it an inky blue hue, hanging limply in the air.

“Sam…”

“On it.” He began to recite the exorcism, the demon essence fighting to keep itself wrapped around Castiel’s grace, almost screaming the closer to the end Sam got. It pulsed and squirmed, a high pitched screech escaping it before it exploded, leaving Castiel’s grace glowing dully in mid air.

“Okay, quick.” Dean pulled a vial from his pocket, the grace slowly going in before moving to the unconscious Castiel. “C’mon buddy… C’mon…” His grace seemed to realise where it needed to go, slipping down the angel’s throat, causing a glow to come from the angel that slowly got brighter. Both Sam and Dean turned away as it got too bright for them to look at, turning back when it disappeared, Castiel still unconscious in the chair. They didn’t realise they were both holding their breath until Castiel slowly opened his eyes, blinking to bring the room in to focus.

“Ow.”

“Oh, thank God.” Castiel moved to rub his forehead, looking confused when his movements were stopped by the devil’s trap handcuffs.

“... What’s going on?” Dean didn’t answer, just threw more holy water over him, letting the breath out when there was no reaction.

“You don’t remember? Dude, you were a full on demon.”

“... That’s impossible.” Sam coughed, catching his attention.

“Apparently not. It looked like there was a demon wrapped around your grace, basically making you one.”

“Yeah, black eyes, bad attitude, the works.” Sam shot Dean another bitch face, earning him a shrug of indifference. “What? I’m not wrong.”

“How?”

“We don’t know. We’re just glad to have you back to normal.” Castiel sighed, suddenly getting tired. Dean moved to unlock the handcuffs, placing one hand on his shoulder as he helped the angel stand, letting himself be heavily leaned on as they made their way out of the dungeon.

“Dean?” They paused, Castiel swaying slightly against the hunter.

“Yeah?”

“... I never want to do that again.” Dean laughed.

“Sure thing buddy. Sure thing.”


End file.
